A Night From Hell
by immaturelittlegirl
Summary: BtVS/Ats crossover. Short, little, future fic. Dawn and Connor are together, but will jealousy get in the way?


Author: Immaturelittlegirl Email: immaturelittlegirl@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to the creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer Joss Whedon and maybe other people, I'm not sure, I just know that I don't own them...

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Short, little, future fic. Dawn and Connor are together, but will jealousy get in the way? 

AN: Oh, if your name really is Molly, I would just like to say that I don't really think your name is annoying. It's actually very pretty; I just needed to think of a name to use. Sorry.  

A Night From Hell

-Dawn's POV-

My eyes snap open as a cold gust of air brushes against my back. A chill runs through my body and immediately I wonder where he is. A moment passes before my eyes adjust to the darkened room and I gaze straight ahead and then up at the ceiling to confirm that I am indeed in his room. I frown to myself and roll onto my other side.

He's lying on his stomach at the very edge of the bed, his face buried in the pillow, one arm dangling over the edge. I take a moment to admire his well muscled, bare back, before the memories of just a few hours ago return to me, and I remember why it is, exactly, that he is over there rather than wrapped around me, as he usually would be.

Molly. The witch. Well, not literally, but she is quite unpleasant. Or at least I had thought so. Connor, on the other hand, evidently, not so much. He had certainly enjoyed flirting with her for what must have been at least an hour. And directly in my presence, too! The nerve of some people…

Okay, so maybe it was more like a few minutes. But it had seemed so much longer at the time. And, yeah, so maybe he wasn't exactly "flirting," per say, but he hadn't quite been discouraging her advances either. I mean, he let her touch him! Well not _touch him_-touch him, but she _was_ practically groping his bicep. And he was allowing it! She had absolutely no right; that bicep is so mine!

When I hadn't been able to stand their fraternizing anymore, I had just stood up and walked away. It must have taken him at least an entire minute to realize I had left. Do you realize how long a minute is? It's, like, sixty seconds. And then he had had the gall to accuse me of overreacting! How absurd! It was completely react worthy!

Now he's sleeping peacefully, all the way over on the other side of the bed. There has to be at least three feet between us. How can he stand it?

Another gust of air rushes in through the window and my teeth chatter involuntarily as another chill runs down my spine. When is it ever this cold in LA? 

Climbing out of bed, I creep around the room to shut the window facing Connor's side of the bed. I hate this window with such passion- in the past year Connor has lived here, I don't think I have ever been able to shut the window correctly and without incident. I push down with as much force as I can, but I cannot get the window to budge. I step back with my hands on my hips and growl at the window in annoyance. My frustration is mounting which I vaguely realize is partially due to the alcohol still humming through my veins from the few drinks I'd had earlier, as well as my previous aggravation with Connor and _Molly_.

God, even her name is annoying. It's the name of a soap opera character. She could have been a soap character, too, with her blonde hair and big boobs and all of two brain cells…

But back to the situation at hand: the window from hell. Sighing, I try to push the window down again, but it refuses to budge. For a moment, I glance back to Connor, who's face is still buried in a pillow, sleeping peacefully. The bastard. Oh well, it isn't as if I would ask him for help anyway. He doesn't deserve to help me right now.

Resorting to my next plan of action, I grasp the top of the window and crouch down so that all of my weight is pulling the window downward. The window remains stuck so I tug harder, growing even more furious with the window, and myself, and the whole goddamn night. 

The window slips and inch or so and I grit my teeth and tug one last time with everything left in me. The window crashes shut with a loud slam that causes the walls to tremble, landing me on my butt.

The bright side: I shut the window; the not-so-bright side: I'm certain I've not only awoken half of the residents in Connor's apartment building, but Connor, himself, as well.

I stand as gracefully as possible, already able to feel Connor's eyes on me, and meander around the bed to climb in on my side, purposefully ignoring Connor's glare. I lie down again at the very edge of the bed facing the wall and listen as Connor sighs in annoyance and flops back down on the bed. I wait a minute before I glance over my shoulder at him to find that he has returned to the same position he had been in before I had awoken him. Turning back over to face the wall once again, I glower to myself.

I bet he is thinking about Molly…

…What if he _is_ thinking about Molly?!

A few minutes pass by while I continue to worry some more over Connor's fidelity, before I feel the bed shift as Connor sits up. I turn over onto my back to see what he is doing and watch as he carefully strides across the room and lifts the window _with ease._ I could scream.

"Hey!" I shout, sitting up to glare at him angrily.

"What?" he mumbles hoarsely.

"I'm cold," I whine, wrapping my arms around myself to illustrate my point. Connors glances at the window and then back to me.

"It's too humid in here to shut the window." He takes another step towards the bed, but I don't intend to let him back in with that damn window being open. The fact that it is actually his bed is of no importance now.

"I'm cold," I repeat, pouting childishly. 

Connor pauses a moment and looks at the ceiling before asking me, "Why don't you just use the blanket you kicked onto the floor earlier?"

Damn him and his logic. I don't want a stupid blanket; I want him to hold me!

"Maybe I'll go back to my dorm where I won't be subject to this freezing atmosphere."

"Maybe I can get some sleep," Connor grumbles, inching back towards the bed again.

"I'm leaving," I shout, standing up with determination and stomping to the bedroom door before I turn around again to look at him. Isn't he going to say something?

"No one's stopping you," he replies, his voice taking on a harsh tone of annoyance that he rarely ever directs at me. 

"That's right, because in order for someone to stop me, there would have to be someone here that cared enough about me to notice whether I was here or not. And you don't even seem to notice when I walk away," I remark bitterly.

"Dawn, I told you, I thought you were going to get a drink or something. God, if I had known you were going to be this jealous and overbearing I wouldn't have talked to her."

"Oh, that's right! I'm overbearing! This from the boy who can't stand me living in a coed dorm. Connor, you practically growl at my male neighbors! Hypocritical, much?" I snap, taking a step towards him and accusingly pointing my finger at him. 

"I'm sure Molly wouldn't mind my _overbearing_ her," Connor retorts, pronouncing the syllables in the word 'overbearing' perversely. 

What did he just say? That was the last implication I was prepared to hear come out of his mouth.

I felt the blood rush from my face, and without thinking I dash from the room, slamming his bedroom door shut behind me. My head is spinning with so many thoughts. What had he meant by his comment? Had he just shouted it in the heat of our argument? Or had he really meant that he wanted to 'overbear' her, whatever the hell that meant. Maybe I was reading into his comment too much, but it clearly sounded as though he had been implying… Well, I couldn't even think about what he could have been implying. 

Swinging the front door to his apartment open, I quickly realize that I have forgotten the keys to my car. I freeze for a moment, trying to recall where I had put them down and then I remember that I left them on the nightstand beside Connor's bed. 

I try to pull myself together, heaving a loud sigh and wiping away the tears streaming down my face furiously, before I march back to his room. As the door swings open, I can see Connor sitting on the corner of the bed closest to the door, staring at the floor. He looks up and our eyes connect for a moment and I think I can actually feel my heart break.

"Dawn," Connor whispers, reaching out a hand to touch me and taking a step forward. I can't stop the pathetic sob that escapes my throat, and I cup my hand over my mouth as I try to muffle the ones that follow. 

I quickly grab the keys on his nightstand and run from his room as fast as I can. I don't know why I'm running; I don't think he's even following me. Maybe I'm trying to run from myself, and the pain I'm feeling right now, but I can't get away. I pound my way down two flights of stairs and then dart out into the cool night, bare-footed and wearing only one of his old tee shirts. I quickly make my way through the back parking lot and to my small yellow car, parked beside his big black one. I think I would kick it if I had shoes on. 

Climbing into my car, I immediately lock my doors and start the engine. I peel out of the parking lot, speeding recklessly, heading… I'm not even sure where… 

I am aware that I really am in absolutely no shape to be driving, especially considering I'm pulling onto the highway and leaving LA for destination unknown, without any money, shoes, or even any clothes, but at this point, it doesn't matter. I just need to get away. 

An hour passes before my traumatized state begins to calm and a numb feeling washes over me. Snapping back into reality, I realize that I have been driving home to Sunnydale completely on autopilot. In a panic, I pull over to the side of the road, not twenty minutes from my house. The realization that my irrational behavior could have gotten me killed, hits home and I start to cry again. I'm exhausted, physically and emotionally, and I want nothing more than to just curl up in my bed, in my home, where I know I will be safe from everything and everyone. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I take in a deep breath and concentrate on clearing my mind long enough to drive myself the rest of the way home.

I pull up in front of my home a short time later. Turning the engine off, I rest my head against the steering wheel for a moment. I'm finally home, and already I'm feeling better. But better than the heartbroken mess I had been an hour ago, really wasn't saying all that much. Climbing out of the car, I track across our damp front lawn, and ascend our front steps. I stop for a moment in front of the front door, and wonder if Buffy is still awake. I left my key to the house back in the car, but I also didn't really want to wake my sister up if she had just gone to sleep. It was, after all, just after three o'clock in the morning. 

I decide to ring the bell, knowing that my sister will probably completely wig if she thinks someone is breaking into her house. Not that she wouldn't be entitled to, considering Sunnydale's reputation. I certainly wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of one of Buffy's attacks, either. 

Buffy answers the door after only a few seconds, dressed in a pair of jeans covered in grass stains and a torn blue shirt, which leads me to assume she has just returned from patrol.

"Rough night?" I ask, attempting to make a joke, but failing as my voice cracks, and another sob escapes. She pulls me into the house and hugs me in a second, and I'm so happy to be home in that instant.

"Dawn, what happened? Are you alright?" she asks, searching me up and down for injury. 

"Connor and I…" I start, but I can't finish the sentence. 

"What did he do? I'll kill him. Literally. He isn't _exactly_ human, I can, ya know." Buffy immediately jumps to my defense, which is no surprise, because I know she has never liked him very much, mostly because of the jealousy she had of his mother.

"No. Don't. We just… I think we… we might of broke up," I finally spit it out, and the words feel like acid as they roll off my tongue. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Dawnie." She hugs me again, and my tears slow until they finally come to a stop. I'm done crying for tonight, I need to save some tears for tomorrow, and everyday after that, because I know I'm never going to find someone I love as much as I love him.

"I'm okay," I reply mournfully, as I pull away from her embrace. "I'm tired. Can I just get some sleep?"

"Yeah, of course," Buffy answers, brushing the stray hair out of my eyes. I smile slightly, thankful for having her right now. 

I climb the stairs slowly and find my way to my familiar bedroom. Oh how I've missed my beautiful room, the one that is all mine that I do not have to share with any psycho, cheese-obsessed, roommate. I smile to myself, the comfort of being home beginning to wash away the memories of the fight. 

I turn to my bureau and rummage through the drawers, looking for my green froggy pajamas and quickly change into them, tossing Connor's tee shirt on the floor. I crawl into bed, snuggle under my blankets, and close my eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake me.

But of course, it won't. It wouldn't be my life if my misery weren't being dragged on and on.

I wonder if he's miserable too, or if he just went back to sleep. Knowing Connor, his complete ignorance to other people's emotions, and his necessity to get at least five hours of sleep before he can function, I'm sure he's tucked happily into bed, fast asleep, without a care in the world. I have to bite my lip to reign in my emotions, once again. I toss and turn for a few minutes, trying desperately to find a position to sleep comfortably in. I finally settle on my side facing the bureau, and my gaze settles on the filthy Connor-contaminated tee shirt. Without thinking, I climb out of bed, grab the tee shirt and bring it back to bed with me, snuggling it just under my chin so that I can smell him while I sleep.

***

There are no more marshmallows. I've combed my cereal bowl over three times, but the marshmallows are gone; I've eaten them all. I realize there are more in the box if I just pour another bowl, but it's too much hassle at the moment. I push the cereal bowl out of the way, and rest my head on the table, pressing my forehead against the cool wood. It's six o'clock in the morning, I've had only an hour and a half of sleep all night, and I'm awake by choice. Am I insane? Why, yes, I am.

So maybe 'choice' wouldn't be the correct word. If I had my _choice_, I would be blissfully unconscious, but I don't, so I'm sitting up by myself at six o'clock in the morning, eating Lucky Charms, and feeling sorry for myself. 

Oh, like you've never done it… 

Sorry, did I mention that I was cranky, too? Having your heart broken will do that to you.

I have two classes today, but I can't bring myself to leave the comforts of home to travel to LA, just so that I can sleep through a stupid biology lesson. I'll just be sure to go to classes tomorrow if I'm still having trouble sleeping. But I really don't ever want to return to LA. The idea of maybe transferring to UC Sunnydale crosses my mind briefly, but I know that Buffy will hear none of it. She'd insist I was being irrational and say that I was jumping to decisions without thinking them through, and, well, she would be right. It's just that, right now, I can't think of anything I have left in LA, aside from Connor, and I don't even have him anymore.

I'm torn from my reverie by the sound of the doorbell. I pause for a moment, wondering who in their right mind is awake at this hour, before I hear the bell again and hurry to the door to look out the window. 

My heart stops when I see Connor standing outside the door, his arms folded across his chest, waiting for me to open the door. I am completely stunned to see him here at all, never mind at this hour. His hair is messier than normal, sticking up in all directions and he hasn't shaven yet so his chin is covered in stubble; I've never seen a more beautiful man in my life. 

He sighs impatiently and then rings the bell for a third time, and here's where I panic. I have no idea what I'm going to say to him or if I'm even ready to talk to him yet. I hear the stairs creek in back of me and I turn around to see Buffy slowly descending them. 

"Who is it?" she asks me, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"It's Connor," I whisper, knowing that his enhanced hearing could probably pick up our voices from where he was standing on the other side of the door.

"Well, are you going to let him in?" 

I peek out the window and can see that he's growing impatient, he steps forward and rings the doorbell twice more before shouting, "Dawn, I know you're here. You're car is out front!"

"I'm not ready," I whisper back o Buffy.

"Dawn, it's six o'clock in the morning. Can you at least ask him to stop ringing the bell so that I can go back to sleep?" Buffy asks, running her hands through her hair in frustration.

"Sorry," I mumble and turn toward the door. I can barely hear my thoughts over the sound of my heart pounding, as I swing the door open. It takes him a second to realize I've opened the door, and when our eyes finally connect with each other, he opens his mouth to say something. "It's very early, some of us are trying to sleep. Could you please stop ringing our doorbell?" I cut him off, shutting the door quickly before he has a chance to get a word in. I lean back against the door, and look up at Buffy to see if she is satisfied and will now go back to bed. She smiles weakly and starts back toward her room again.

"Dawn!" Connor shouts, pounding on the door with so much force that I jump back away from it, for fear he might actually break the door down. He stops after a moment and I look back towards the stairs. Buffy has turned around again and is now looking at the door as if she is about ready to kill something, most likely Connor. "Dawn, open the door!" Connor is shouting and pounding again. 

Buffy starts stomping down the stairs with a scary look in her eye. 

"Wait! I'll take care of it. You can go back to bed. Please, Buffy," I beg, knowing that a confrontation between Connor and Buffy could and would get ugly. She looks at me doubtfully, but eventually turns around and up the stairs to let me take care of it.

"I'll be in my room if you need me," she assures me and disappears around the corner at the top of the staircase.

The banging on the door has stopped and Connor has fallen silent. I wonder for a moment if he's even out there anymore. Peeking out the window again, I can see that he's taken a few steps away from the door and is now staring at it intently. I'm not sure if he's just lost in thought or if he's coming up with tactics for breaking the door down. I decide that it would be best to open the door, incase he really was intending to break the door down. It certainly wasn't something I would put past Connor after a sleepless night.

I open the door slowly, only seven or eight inches, enough for me to look out without inviting him inside.

"Dawn…" he begins but trails off; I can see his mind working, trying to form words for what he wants to say. "I've been looking for you."

"Well, here I am." I try for sarcastic, but my voice doesn't rise above a whisper.

"I checked your dorm, and I went to all of your friends'. I couldn't find you. I was scared," he admits. His confession honestly shocks me; I've never heard him admit to being scared before. 

"Scared?" I echo, not sure I'd heard him correctly.

He nods and explains, "When you left you forgot your clothes and your shoes and you were crying." He takes a few steps closer to me and I feel my chest constricting. Looking directly into his intense blue eyes, I can't think straight. I open the door for him to come in without even thinking and he steps inside. Shaking my head, I try to remember what he had said, as he steps closer to me, stopping only inches in front of me.

"I was upset. I still am," I state firmly, taking a step back.

"I didn't mean what I said, before."

"That you wanted to 'overbear' Molly? What exactly _did_ you mean by that, Connor?" I ask in a biting tone.

Connor's eyes widened a bit before he stutters, "N-nothing. I swear."

"N-nothing?" I repeat mockingly.

"Dawn, I love you. The only person I want to be with is you," he declares, stepping closer again. He reaches a hand up to gently stroke my cheek with his thumb, and I have trouble staying angry with him.

"But why did you say that about her?" I ask, hating the pitiful sound of my voice in this question.

"Just forget what I said. I didn't mean it," Connor replies sincerely, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes.

"She was pretty, though," I admit, watching carefully to see if he agrees or disagrees.

"You're the only one I see." 

I'm really surprised by how charming he is behaving. I've loved him since the day I laid eyes on him, but he's never said anything even nearly close to as romantic as his last comment, and I think my heart is actually fluttering. I didn't think hearts could actually do that, but I swear mine is.

"Really?" I ask quietly, looking up into his big blue eyes. Why was I angry with him again? Oh, wait… "Then why didn't you notice how annoyed I was when you were with _her_?"

"Huh?" The small smile that had been playing over his features halted and a confused expression began to take its place. "I did. I watched you walk away; I thought you were going to the bar. When you walked toward the exit, I followed you. And then you started yelling at me," he recalled, a defensive edge inching into his voice.

My eyes dropped to his chest, and I leaned my head against it in exhaustion. I couldn't take anymore arguing, I just wanted it to be over with.

"Can we just make up now?" I ask him, running one of my hands from his stomach, up his chest, and around his neck.

Connor opens his mouth to say something, but stops before words are formed. He remains silent for a moment and I can see that he is going over the conversation again in his head. He looks at me, obviously confused once again.

"Yes," he finally responds, nodding. I can't help but smile at his confusion, which causes him to smile back. Connor leans down and presses a light kiss onto my nose. "So, you're not angry anymore?" 

I think the question over for a minute before telling him, "Nope."

Connor gently shakes his head smiling and leans down to capture my lips in a passionate kiss. I pull back after some minutes pass to catch my breath and whisper, "I love you." 

Placing a soft kiss behind my ear, he echoes my avowal before he starts to gently suck on a tender spot on my neck. My mind begins to swim and my thoughts all start to merge into one direction as he backs me up towards the stairs.

"Wait!" I cry, and quickly cover my mouth with my hand. Connor stops to stare at me intently, awaiting my explanation. I quickly disentangle myself from him to go listen near the staircase, hoping I hadn't woken Buffy up.

"What?" Connor questions, coming to stand behind me and place his hands on either side of my waist.

"We can't do _that_ while Buffy is here," I clarify. 

"We can't?" he repeats.

"No!" I whisper loudly, looking at him as if to say, 'duh'. He looks pretty, but sometimes it takes him a minute or so to catch on.

"Oh," he mutters, frowning. "When does she leave for work?" 

"Not for a few hours."

"Well, what can we do 'till then?" he asks, idly fingering my hair.

"Umm, well, we have Lucky Charms," I offer, smiling unenthusiastically and biting my lip. 

"What about a warm bed?"

"For sleeping purposes only?" I question suspiciously.

"For now," he responds, kissing me lightly on the lips. 

That's good enough for me.

THE END

AN 2: Just something I wrote up when I was bored. I know it's not great, I wouldn't really even say good. But it was more or less just an attempt to write SOMETHING. Anyway, love it or hate it, I'd really love you to send feedback of any sort. :) Thanks!


End file.
